Picture Of Childhood Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEF GHIJKL GMNOGPQR R STMSG SSMUVP WR AS MXDYXRA G| Elbowing our way we run | A |
| Someone is being beaten up in the market | B |
| You wouldn't want to miss it | C |
| We pick up speed racing to the uproar | D |
| scooping up water in our felt boots | E |
| and forgetting to wipe our sniffles | F |
| - | |
| And stood stock still In our little hearts something tightened | G |
| when we saw how the ring of sheepskin coats | H |
| fur coats hooded coats was contracting | I |
| how he stood up near the green vegetable stall | J |
| with his head pulled into his shoulders from the hail | K |
| of jabs kicks spitting slaps in the face | L |
| - | |
| Suddenly someone from the right by the handcart | G |
| pushed his teeth in | M |
| Suddenly someone from the left bashed his forehead with a | N |
| chunk of ice | O |
| Blood appeared and then they started in in earnest | G |
| All piled up in a heap they began to scream together | P |
| pounding with sticks reins | Q |
| and linchpins out of wheels | R |
| - | |
| In vain he wheezed to them 'Mates | R |
| you're my mates what's the matter ' | - |
| The mob wanted to settle accounts fully | S |
| The mob was deaf with rage | T |
| The mob grumbled at those who weren't putting their boots in | M |
| and they trampled something that looked like a body | S |
| into the spring snow that was turning into mud | G |
| - | |
| They beat him up with relish With ingenuity Juicy | S |
| I saw how skillfully and precisely | S |
| one man kept putting the boots in | M |
| boots with greasy flaps on them | U |
| right under the belt of the man who was down | V |
| smothered in mud and dungy water | P |
| - | |
| Their owner a guy with an honest enough mug | W |
| very proud of his high principles | R |
| was saying with each kick 'Don't try your tricks with us ' | - |
| booting him deliberately with the utmost conviction | A |
| and sweat pouring with a red face he jovially called to me | S |
| 'Come on youngster get in it ' | - |
| - | |
| I can't remember how many there were making a din | M |
| beating him up | X |
| It may have been a hundred it may have been more | D |
| but I just a boy wept for shame | Y |
| And if a hundred are beating somebody up | X |
| howling in a frenzy even if for a good cause | R |
| I will never make one hundred and one | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| Translated by Tina Tupikina Glaessner Geoffrey Dutton and Igor Mezhakoff Koriakin revised | G |
Yevgeny Yevtushenko
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